She's withdrawn from the fridge, holding a plastic squeeze-bottle of something or other.

When she turns to look at the brightly-colored little candies (let's face it, that's basically what sprinkles are), she can't help but laugh a little, after pulling the spoon from her mouth.

"... Yep. Yeah, they really are. S'sorta funny how this whole culture revolves around them so much..."

Giving the bottle she'd found a shake, she holds it up, closing the fridge door with one foot.

"S'not chocolate sauce, but I think it's like... butterscotch or something."